Never Forget
by Han-22x
Summary: The last place Draco expected to end up was Harry and Ginny's wedding. But somehow, he just can't leave without saying goodbye. Because he's still in love with him. SLASH. Please review!


**Title: Never Forget  
Pairing: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter DMHP  
Warning: SLASH. If you don't like, well don't read. :)  
Notes: Please review!**

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Never Forget  
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It was a mass of bright colours and deafening voices, loud music – and more people with Weasley-red hair than Draco could count – _How many Weasleys are there in this world _– filled with happy, excited faces, extravagant dress robes and glasses of bubbling champagne which emptied quicker than was really necessary. _Do these people have any class at all? _

He fought his way through the crowd, half of him resentful that no one spoke to him, the half of him glad – _I mean, I'm a Malfoy, and these people are..._

It was obvious he didn't fit in – his sharp, expensive black dress robes stood out among the bright colours with sparkles and rich patterns. His perfectly styled white blonde hair and deathly pale complexion didn't blend in either, nor his extremely bored, haughty expression – compared to the hysterical laughter and the intense conversations.

He wasn't even invited.

But, how could he miss this? It was the wedding of the year – between Harry Potter and Ginevra Weasley, heroes of the Second Wizarding War. It had been highly publicised for Merlin knows how long, splattered over the newspapers and witch magazines, dominating the gossip columns.

For months now, Draco had convinced himself – quite effectively, or so he thought – that he didn't care about this wedding, never had – never will. He had convinced himself that the stab of pain in his heart which had nearly crippled him, and nothing to do with the wedding announcement in the paper. That the tears he had shed, smudging the ink, had been nothing at all.

But he had been alone in Malfoy Manor. Completely alone, watching the sun set slowly with a solitary glass of the finest white wine (_imported from the South of France, 50 galleons a bottle_). And then it had hit him, hit him more forcefully than a bludger in a particularly nasty Quidditch game. He missed him. He_ loved _him.

And he was married to another.

He had lost him, he was gone forever. Harry Potter would never again play a part in his lonely life, he would never again make Draco's black and white world multi-coloured. Draco Malfoy was sentenced to being alone forever, but he could only blame himself couldn't he? He let the most important thing in his life slip through his fingers.

But, he couldn't leave without saying goodbye. _Just one more goodbye._

This was why Draco Malfoy was here, in this vulgar, shabby Gryffindor reunion. A drunken man, a Weasley no doubt – judging from his hair colour, which clashed awfully with his dress robes, flung an arm around Draco's shoulder. The dress robes, Draco noticed with a sneer of distaste, were filthy. Draco didn't blink. He stunned the man, did the full body bind on him, and then continued on his Harry-hunt.

And then, his heart stopped. There he was.

Dressed in dark green dress robes, which brought out the colour of his eyes beautifully, Harry looked – _oh, Merlin, he looks like a bloody god_.

His hair was messy, as always, but he had never looked as good as he looked now. The image Draco was staring at was ruined only by a pale arm linked around Harry's. An arm belonging to Ginny Weasley. Ginny Potter.

Despite being at his own wedding, arm in arm with his new wife, who Draco had to admit – wasn't completely unfortunate-looking, Harry looked down. He obviously wasn't enjoying himself. Ginny was clinging to him, and Harry kept looking down at her clutching hands in distaste. The sparkle which Draco had always seen in Harry's eyes when they had been together, it wasn't there. His eyes were flat, and – well, dead.

Then, there was a photo of the happy couple. Harry seemed lost in thought, and he only jolted back into reality when Ginny hissed into his ear, and nudged him sharply. The couple plastered fake, _pretty revolting_ grins on their faces, waiting for the photo to be taken.

There was a shout from the immediate left of Draco, so loud and sudden, he nearly toppled over. _Thank god I didn't, this suit cost more than this entire wedding. _Some common, blood traitor Weasleys had got their hands on a bottle of champagne. With a loud _pop!_ the cork flew out, and champagne spurted into the warm night air, and of course – Draco got the full force of it.

As he looked up, his pale face tinged with embarrassment, and his beautifully perfected hair dripping with sticky champagne, he realised that he had attracted the notice of Harry. _And Ginny. And the rest of this bloody wedding, but they don't really matter do they?_ His suit was ruined of course, and when he got his hands on the people who had done this he would curse them into oblivion, but right now he all he could thing about was _how happy Harry seemed to be to see him, how the sparkle had returned in his eye – how his smile had – had it become real again?_

The two men looked at each other, and almost as if this was a fairy tale –_ not that he read them _– or something equally as magical, the two forgot about the rest of the wedding, and smiled at each other. It was perfect. Yes, it's a cliché, it's an overwritten line from a bad romance novel – but it was true. At least, until the dream shattered, as Ginny slapped her husband and stormed away – leaving behind her a shocked husband, a stunned audience, and a love struck Draco Malfoy.

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**Thank you for reading, please tell me what you think?**


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